


An Unfortunate Meeting

by mysterimoron



Series: Mirrors Reflection [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Mirror Universe, Mirror Universe (Star Trek), Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Paranoia, lots of feelings, mirror jim is just scared, slightly implied relationships if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterimoron/pseuds/mysterimoron
Summary: Anxiety. Paranoia. Nausea. Distrust. Awareness. Fear.Kirk feels all of these start to seep in and take over the longer he sits around this crew so different from his own. Everything weighs down on him, suffocating him as he struggles to understand.This world is not his own.
Series: Mirrors Reflection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002522
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	An Unfortunate Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Another addition to my mirror fics. This can be read standalone or as a continuation. These are all just snippets of scenes from a mirror verse role play and other little ideas that come to me for Mirror Kirk. This can very slightly be read as implied Spock x Kirk if you count the fact that normal Jim and Spock are implied to be close through Spock's actions towards Mirror Jim. Anyway enjoy!

Anxiety. 

It coiled around his belly like an unpleasant serpent. It clenched tight in his insides, making him feel sick to his stomach and ready to collapse at any moment. At this point the only thing keeping him up was sheer, determined, stubbornness.

Paranoia.

It ran his blood cold, seeping through his body in a steady flow. It took its time spreading through him, making him feel tense and uneasy. His body felt stiff, like any sudden movements would cause his body to creak and crack in protest. His shoulders hunched in on themselves, curling upwards as he tried and failed to release all this unwanted tension. 

Nausea.

The sounds surrounding him made him sick to his stomach, the curl of anxiety doing nothing to improve the feeling. Everything was too loud, too lively, too bright. How could anyone focus with all of this sound? Everyone laughed and talked, speaking so freely as if they didn't have a care in the world. He could feel the trust and love radiating off of this crew, the feeling almost palpable. 

Distrust.

Spock set the tray of food down in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to eat it. Someone was trying to kill him. What if it was poisoned? Would Spock kill him? Spock had always been by his side, protecting him, fighting with him. The Vulcan had never expressed any interest in moving up in command but people change. What if Spock had changed? People changed. Spock could be tired of him. He was going to die.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Spock pointedly reached out with his own fork, taking a bite of the salad that sat on his tray. The Vulcan kept eye contact with him the entire time he chewed and swallowed. Kirk felt himself relax slightly. This wasn't his world. This Spock wouldn't kill him. With slow movements, he began to eat the food.

Awareness. 

He could feel Spock's eyes on him as they ate. He couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes again. He focused intently on eating instead, taking slow careful bites. The Vulcan didn't speak but his silence spoke volumes. He could practically feel the concern, the curiosity, the questions. Kirk knew the man could tell something was off but Spock still had yet to figure out what exactly was off.

Fear. 

"Keptin!" A cheerful voice yelled. What little he had managed to relax instantly disappeared. He tensed up again, the sound of the familiar yet unfamiliar voice setting him right back on edge. His fists clenched, his bright eyes widening slightly in unrestrained fear. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and before he could think about what he was doing he turned and slapped it away. He stared up at the curly haired young boy, taking in the look of confuses and surprised hurt. The world around him came crashing down as Kirk seemed to remember himself. 

Fuck. He fucked up. This wasn't his Chekov. This Chekov had been trying to be friendly, had probably given his Captain friendly pats on the shoulder before and here he was reacting violently because he shared the face with another man. He tried to bring himself to apologize but chekov was already backing away and he still couldn't bring himself into a state of calm. It wasn't working. He could feel that fear rising in him again, threatening to completely consume him. He wanted to lash out, throw things, hit things. He wanted to fight back and scream but he couldn't. So instead he sat there in absolute silence, eyes focused completely on the table, breathing quick and uneven as he tried and failed to reign in his emotions. 

This was not his world.

His breath came out uneasy, ragged as he tried to remember what it was like to breathe normally. He wanted to hit something, someone, anything. "Captain?" That voice. It was so familiar but it was too soft. Much too soft. He looked up at met his first officers eyes. No. Not his.

This wasn't his world.

Spock reached out to put a hand on his wrist, the softest touch. It wasn't meant for him. Jim nearly punched Spock in reaction. He raised his clenched fist on instinct to do exactly that. Everything in him screamed to fight back right now. He barely reigned in the action, only managing to stop himself because he felt emotions not his own settling into him. He looked up at Spock, eyes still wide with panic but slowly filling with recognition. "Spock." He whispered, not trusting himself to speak any louder. "Fuck...spock I hit him didn't I? I almost hit you. What the fuck am I doing I don't belong here." The words came out before he could even think about what he was saying.

Looking into those eyes he felt his heart stop. Those soft eyes. They were so caring and concerned. They showed nothing but worry for him. For his Captain. He slammed his fist against the table instead. "I don't belong here, Spock." He hissed out hating the desperate tone that leaked into his voice.

"Captain you do belong here. This is your ship." These soft touches were not meant for him. The instinct to hit came back, his fist raising slightly as the urge to hit this Spock surfaced. He wanted to fight, to scream, to be broken down and reminded of who he was. 

"Captain, you are showing signs of post traumatic stress. Perhaps a visit to Doctor Mccoy.." Before Spock could finish Kirk swiftly cut him off. "I'm fine Spock." He said, reigning in all his warring emotions. He couldn't afford to lose face. Not right now. Not with things so tense. He had to get it together. "I..am going to finish dinner in my quarters. I'm just a little stressed. No need to get the doctor involved." 

He could feel the panic rising at the mention of the doctor. Doctor Mccoy. Bones. The doctor was not a good option. The doctor was not someone Kirk trusted himself to be around. Spock seemed to understand the tension as he stopped pressing the matter. "You are safe here, Jim." The use of his name sent Kirk spiraling again. Jim. His Spock never called him by his name. This was just another reminder that this wasn't his world.

"I can't be sure, Spock. I just...I'll be in my quarters." He said quietly. He picked up his tray and before Spock could argue, left the mess hall.

This was not his world.


End file.
